


Fallen Petals

by Newtdew25



Category: Miss Peregrine's Home for Peculiar Children (2016)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Alternate Universe- No Supernatural, Angst and Feels, HollowHeart - Freeform, M/M, Past Infidelity, Post-Break Up, Unrequited Love
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-01-05
Updated: 2017-01-05
Packaged: 2018-09-14 21:40:10
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,586
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9204458
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Newtdew25/pseuds/Newtdew25
Summary: Enoch O'Connor may be an aspiring medical student, but he's always got time to help Fiona run her family nursery. After all, his years at his own family's funeral parlour has taught him a thing or two about the meanings of flowers. The plants are also an excellent distraction from things he would much rather ignore.





	

**Author's Note:**

> So, as with all members of the MPHFPC fandom, I have my own opinions about the movie. While I personally enjoyed it, I treat it as a separate entity from the books, as if it were its own alternate universe. That being said, I quickly caught on to the dynamic between Jake and the older Enoch in the movie (not to mention the cuties that are Asa Butterfield and Finlay MacMillan), so I wanted to get out some sadder, angstier stuff with them.
> 
> Where there is this symbol (///), this indicates an approximate two to three year passage of time.
> 
> Here are the meanings of the flowers and plants mentioned in the fic below.  
> Begonia: Deep thoughts  
> Hyacinth: Sincerity  
> Ivy: Fidelity  
> Sunflower: Adoration  
> Arborvitae: Unchanging friendship  
> Basil: Good wishes  
> Zinnia: Thoughts of absent friends

In the heart of London, near the extent of St. Paul’s Cathedral lay a boutique known as Fraunfeld Nursery. A small shop offering floral arrangements for an array of occasions, it was quite popular among the circles of people that knew of its existence. That being said, not even the regular patrons were quite sure of _how_ the flowers and shrubberies got into the store, since trucks were never seen coming to or going from the address.

            Not that it mattered, because the plants were simply beautiful and lasted longer than those in big-name stores. Who cared where they came from?

            Enoch O’Connor was not oblivious to the air of mystery surrounding his and Fiona’s business. He pretended not to hear when customers would whisper theories about the origins of the plants as he rang up their orders. It was honestly amusing; the reality was that he would bring the plants in from a greenhouse that Fiona’s family owned. However, the obscurity of it all attracted customers, and that meant more money for the both of them.

            Occasionally, a ruder customer would ask him if he was qualified to work at a florist’s. Sure, Enoch’s moodiness and darker clothes didn’t exactly scream “Hey, I know the symbolic meanings of each flower in this bouquet!” but having grown up in a funeral parlour, he had come to know the ins and outs of floral arrangements. He also knew how to kill people with the more poisonous flowers in the shop, but Fiona hadn’t let him try any of those arrangements out.

            Yet.

            He’d been working with (not for, since they were friends) Fiona since his last year of secondary school and was now putting most of his earnings into getting himself through medical school. The human body had always been a source of fascination for Enoch ever since his father caught him opening up one of the caskets to look at the corpse inside. As stressful as his studies were, he found a kind of solace in tending to the plants as well as being around Fiona. The younger girl’s enthusiasm for botany was contagious and she knew when Enoch wanted to be left alone.

            At the moment, he had finished putting together a small bouquet intended for a first date. Enoch personally wouldn’t have sprung for flowers right off the bat; gifts were more endearing once you’ve gotten to know the person, and you weren’t even sure if the person had allergies or not. Nonetheless, he carefully selected some white begonias, purple hyacinths, white ivies, and sunflowers.  Roses, although the cultural symbol for passion, were simply too intense for a first date. If this customer came back, Enoch might include some the next time.

“Hey, Fi,” Enoch called out as he tied the plants together with a blue ribbon. “Who’s this for anyways? The order form was ripped at the bottom.” When Fiona didn’t reply, he picked up the bouquet and the paper before walking to the front counter. If she wasn’t tending to the plants herself, she was pretty much always at the register, either chatting up their patrons or taking in a new order. Between her and Enoch, she was the much better fit for such social endeavours.

“-got it in the back, let me just get it.”

“Don’t worry, I remember where it is.”

The second voice sounded familiar, but Enoch couldn’t quite place it. Whoever it was, they had come by often enough to know their way around the store and find the back room (but in their defence, Enoch and Fiona were good with flowers, not organization). Or maybe it was just a prick who thought they knew better than Fiona. As much as he was willing to punch this person out for that, he couldn’t risk ruining the bouquet in his good hand.

“Is there something I can…” he began as he walked out, his voice dying off when he saw who the patron was. “Oh, hello Mr. Portman. I suppose these are yours.” No different from the last time they had seen each other, Jacob was still the gangly, shy man that Enoch once called his. “Enoch, c’mon, you don’t have to be like that,” he whined, stuffing his hands into his pockets. “I thought we were cool.” Enoch held out the bouquet of begonias and other flowers, keeping his eyes on his sneakers. “Yeah, we were. Now get on your way.”

Jacob coughed into the sleeve of his jacket (one that Enoch had given him two years ago, the one with the detachable hood), not moving from his spot in the doorway. “Look, things didn’t work out between us, but-” Enoch shoved the bouquet at him, gritting his teeth. “It’s in the past, right? Weren’t those your words, Jacob?” He found it in himself to look up at Jacob, to look into eyes that were superficially concerned. “You were the one who was so eager to move on; hell, you moved on before we were even done!”

_That much was true. Enoch had been practically shut up in his flat, drilling himself through the origins of various infectious diseases and the development of their cures. He remembered promising Jacob a formal dinner date and plenty of make-up sex once his exam was over. “Just give me another week,” he had asked Jacob between hasty kisses. “I’m almost through. We could go to that Indian place you love so much, even though I can’t handle spicy food.” His boyfriend didn’t reply, instead kissing him more intently. The lack of words didn’t sit well with Enoch at the time, but then Jacob started kissing that spot on his neck and he was more than happy to let him continue._

_But even after his exam was done, Enoch hadn’t heard much from Jacob, only getting short, inconsistent texts in reply. It was only when he arrived at his door unannounced did Enoch see the marks on Jacob’s neck, his tousled hair, the unfamiliar pair of boots lying by the door. All Enoch remembered was running away from there and not stopping until he was in the back of the nursery. Fiona walked in on him curled up in the foetal position, surrounded by shards of broken pots and various flowers torn to pieces. She did her best to be there for him, but Enoch just threw himself further into his studies. He didn’t have any distractions now._

Enoch felt his voice break, but he willed himself to not cry. As Jacob reached out his hand, he recoiled, as if he had just been burned. “We… We were younger back then,” Jacob muttered. “We didn’t know what we were doing back then…” Before he could finish his thought, Enoch pushed Jacob out of the doorway and into the main area of the shop. “Just go, Jacob. Treat them better than how you treated me.” Jacob didn’t say anything as he looked at the bouquet. “I’ll see you around,” he lied before walking out the door, disappearing into the foggy afternoon.

Fiona looked over at him, a sad kind of understanding in her eyes. Enoch shook his head as he grabbed a watering can from the back room. Maybe he would talk to her later. He just needed to process this first and perhaps drink a bottle or two before he would willingly open up to Fiona. It wasn’t healthy, but then again, neither was his mind.

///

As it turns out, Jacob Portman wasn’t as much of a liar as Enoch remembered him.

Enoch had come to Fraunfeld Nursery as part of a goodbye before he moved up north to Birmingham. He hadn’t ever been this far from home, and Fiona was the last of his friends that he needed to meet with. Emma and Olive already lectured him on how to take care of himself (as if he hadn’t already been doing that for the past few years), Horace took him shopping for “more respectable” clothes (his words, although the younger man did know how to make a good first impression), and Millard traded him several books and pamphlets on Birmingham for his medical textbooks (he always had a love for new knowledge). While Enoch was glad for a fresh start, he did feel a twinge of sadness for leaving old familiarities behind, even if only for a period of time.

Fiona had given him a small bouquet of arborvitae, basil, and purple zinnias as a parting gift, the meanings a sweet message that Enoch knew well. “Promise me you’ll do okay out there, Enoch,” she almost sobbed as he pulled her into a hug. “Fi, relax. I’ll text and call as often as I can.” He felt himself wincing at the white lie. It wouldn’t be as often as he could, but rather, whenever he remembered to get into contact with his loved ones. That is, if he remembered.

“Now hurry along, you’ll miss your train,” Fiona said, patting Enoch’s shoulders with a smile. He couldn’t help but smile back. “Alright, ma,” Enoch groaned, turning to go. He hadn’t counted on someone standing there; the bell on the shop door hadn’t even rang. “Oh, pardon me…”

“Sorry, didn’t mean to get in your way.”

Enoch looked up for just a moment, giving a polite nod as he rushed past Jacob. He tried not to notice how Jacob was holding several forms, the kinda he and Fiona had used for large orders. He definitely didn’t notice the gold ring around Jacob's finger.

**Author's Note:**

> Comments and kudos, as always, are greatly appreciated.


End file.
